


The Only One Noticing

by annetta23



Category: Football RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Boys Kissing, Bromance, Comfort/Angst, Gay Male Character, Gay Panic, Kissing, Liverpool, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-01 08:43:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4013173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annetta23/pseuds/annetta23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'm not sorry, Mart," Jordan whispered. His breath felt hot on Martin's neck. "I'm not sorry about the kiss."</p><p>Martin wished he could say something but he was too speechless. He had no idea where this was going.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Set during Liverpool F.C 2015-2016 pre-season tour to Australia.  
> Please comment or suggest anything! Hope you like it, Mugsmashers!  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First chapter is kinda slow, just an intro. Keep reading the next chapters for more drama ;)

“Touchdown Australia, Mateees,” Daniel Sturridge whistled and ran to the plane door excitedly, followed by the other lads which automatically formed a line behind him.  
Liverpool had arrived in Melbourne, Australia, for the pre-season match. Everyone was excited for the new season, excited for their brief time outside England, but something was getting in the way, in the form of Jordan Henderson.

“Jordan? Where’s Jordan?” Brendan Rodgers called out. The manager raised his hand, stopping the plane crew from opening the door. He needed the captain to stand beside him, and lead the others to exit the plane. That’s how they always did it.

Rodgers looked at Daniel, who looked to Simon behind him, who looked down to Philippe, who looked up to Martin Skrtel, who gladly, smiled assuringly to his fellows and didn’t look at anyone for an answer.

“Hendo? He’s back here, guys. Don’t worry, let me get him,” Martin said, leaving the line to the back of the seats.  
With head hung low, arms folded tightly on his chest, Jordan sat silently in his seat. He heard footsteps coming to his way, so he reluctantly looked up, and found Martin’s smiley face looking at him.

Hendo couldn’t remember if he had seen Skrtel smiling that warm before.

“Hey mate,” Martin whispered. “Do you have any idea that we’re in Aussie now?”

Jordan looked stunned. He stood up and realized that the seats were empty and everyone was already lining up on the door.

“My God. I, I don’t, sorry.” Jordan’s face turned red. “Uh, come on then, let’s get out. I follow behind you.”

“What are you talking about?” Martin pulled Jordan and gently pushed him towards the door. “You go first, you lead the line with Rodgers.”

“What? Why should I?” Jordan stumbled and bumped to Jon Flanagan in front of him. “I’m fine back here,”

“Yeah, but you are captain now. Remember? And captain exits plane first with the manager.”

The boys started laughing at Jordan’s awkwardness, as the new captain walked robotic-ly to the front of the line. Finally, now with Jordan stood where he’s needed, the plane door opened and greeted immediately with flashlights and shouts.

The team was all smiling. Even Jordan was smiling. But as they’re guided to the airport, then to the bus, meeting some Aussie fans who mostly wore a Henderson jersey, Jordan’s eyes got darker than usual, and Martin wondered if he was the only one noticing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That little maneuver, that turned the kiss from sweet to steamy, snapped Jordan back to reality, and the pleasure he felt earlier was making it’s way out of the room, to be replaced with panic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So things get complicated for both Hendo and Skrtel here :) More sexual contact in the next, and probably, last chapter. Please let me know what you think! I really enjoyed writing this.

Few hours later, the team crashed in the hotel lounge, exclusively booked for them for the night. Martin sat alone in the corner, nonchalantly inspecting the tattoos along his left arm. He didn’t feel like engaging in a steamy football argument with Lazar and Lucas at the bar. He’s not that much of a dancer too, so when Daniel, Kolo and Jose tried to pull him to get on the floor, Martin politely refused. 

Then Simon Mignolet randomly walked on by, and his blonde head reminded Martin of someone. 

Jordan. Jordan was not here.

Worried came like a thunder to Martin. He didn’t know why he’s being like this, why he cared so much about Jordan’s sudden vibe change. But the dim light in Jordan’s eyes earlier that day was bothering him, and Martin hated seeing the new captain looking so miserable. 

It’s not the old Jordan that he knew, and Martin wondered if he’s the only one noticing.

Martin scanned the room, looking for Jon Flanagan. He knew Flano was Jordan’s roommate for the tour. He found Flano’s little figure balled up in the other corner of the room, his hands busy with his gadget.

“Flano,” Martin yelled, trying to be heard against the loud music. “Flano boy, you see Jordan?”

“Uuuuh,” Flano mumbled, eyes still set on the game he’s playing. “Jordan stays in the room.”

“Whattt?” Martin bowed down, feeling like slapping the freakin gadget off of Flano’s fists. “Jordan what?”

Finally Flano paused his noisy game and looked up to Martin. “He stays in our room. 219,” Flano screamed, smiled innocently, then back to the business that was his gaming. 

Martin ruffled Flano’s neat dark hair and jogged off of the lounge. He made his way to the nearest elevator, while thinking of what he’s gonna do once he reached Jordan’s room. He’s just worried, and wanted to know what’s bugging Jordan. 

But what if Jordan got all defensive and refused to talk? What if it’s really non of his business? What if once he got to the room, all alone with Jordan, he couldn’t help but touch the English?

Martin’s spine got tensed. He’d been hiding his feelings towards Jordan so far so well. He’s not ready to reveal anything to anyone, at least not now.  
**

Knocks on the door woke Jordan up. He tried to lift his head, but even that simple task left Jordan with a headache. He must had been sleeping for too long, and all the thoughts about his first day as the official captain tomorrow wasn’t helping at all. Jordan felt like his head might explode anytime now.

“One sec,” Jordan said as he lifted his body, hoping it’s not another lady trying to make a massage appointment again. He peeked through the whole, and found gladly that it wasn’t. Martin Skrtle was not even a lady. 

“I hope I don’t disturb you,” Martin said once they’re both inside the room. “Are you okay? You didn’t join us downstairs. What’s wrong, Mate?”

Jordan looked at Martin who sat next to him on the bed. How could the Slovak noticed that something wasn’t right? Not that Jordan was crying for attention, but the other lads only seemed to care if he’s physically injured. They wouldn’t know something’s up if he didn’t say anything. 

“It’s just...It’s just about tomorrow,” Jordan finally said. 

“What’s wrong with tomorrow?”

“Nothing! Nothing is wrong with tomorrow’s match. It’s me, Mart, I am what’s wrong,”

Jordan covered his mouth, shocked by his own action. He had no idea why he exploded like that. Maybe it’s the care in Martin’s voice. Maybe he should had hold back his emotion, but Jordan knew that there’s no turning back now. Martin would know that the new captain of Liverpool Football Club was a weak 24 year old boy who’s afraid of being a leader.

“I don’t know how I’m gonna face tomorrow. No more Steven Gerrard, from now on everything will be on me. People adored Stevie like a god, Mart, you know that, we all know that. I don’t know if I can be that awesome in leading this boat! I will do my best for this club, this club is my life,but...but... I’m scared as fuck.”

Jordan knew his face was wet with tears now, and how embarrassing it was to look like that in front of someone as virile as Martin. Jordan wished that the ground would split open and swallowed him, but of course there’s no such thing. So he hid in the easiest way he could: burying his face to his palms.

After a second of fright, where Jordan swore he couldn’t even hear Martin’s breath, something big and warming landed on top of him. Then Jordan realized it was Martin’s embrace.

“Hey,” Martin whispered. “Are you calm now?”

Was he? Jordan was not sure, but he nodded anyway. 

“I’m sorry if you feel burdened. But I think you’re being nonsense,” Martin spoke ever so softly, and he began stroking Jordan’s back. “Do you remember the boys from your batch? Martin Kelly, Spearing, Downing? They’re all gone and you, you Jordan, you’re still here because you’ve proved that you are awesome.”

Still buried in his palms, Jordan took in Martin’s words. He never really thought about his friends who had left that way before.

“But,” Jordan finally dropped his hands and looked up to Martin. For a second there he felt cold without Martin’s arm around him. “I’m still scared. I’m still scared no matter wha-“

“You think it was a walk in the park for Stevie?” Martin leaned in, closing almost all the gap between him and Jordan. “You think Stevie was never scared? I’ve been here longer than you, Mate, and I can tell you that that’s not the case.”

So Stevie got scared too, every once in a while. Jordan tried to recall any memory when Stevie looked scared, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t with the way Martin was looking at him now. He could feel Martin’s breath on his face, and suddenly Jordan felt a funny sensation in his stomach. 

What the hell. What’s this? Was he...aroused? 

“Martin, I...” Jordan put his hand on Martin’s chest, pushing it gently. Suddenly it’s hard for him to breath. Jordan looked away, trying to escape from Martin’s stare, but instead his eyes fell to Martin’s tattoos, that brought him back to the warm feeling when Martin put his arm around him. 

Somehow he’s missing it. He loved the warmth. Jordan looked at Martin in the eyes again, and he just realized how close their bodies were now. Martin’s breath on his face, Martin’s thigh against his, and Martin’s tight chest under his palm. 

Jordan was about to absentmindedly leaned in and hug Martin, to take all the warmth as much as he could exploit from Martin, when Martin grabbed his hand and pulled him in first.

But not for a hug. Instead, Martin kissed Jordan right in the mouth.

The sensation hit Jordan like a thunder. To say that he was shocked would be an understatement . Yes he would like a hug, but this...this? The kiss was definitely not just a small peck. It was a real kiss that still lasted after a few seconds. Martin’s lips were not demanding nor pushy, but there’s still some pressure that made Jordan questioned his sexual preference. Because surprisingly, he’s enjoying this.

Then Martin slightly loosened up his bottom lip, just to wrapped it even tighter around Jordan’s helpless mouth. That little maneuver, that turned the kiss from sweet to steamy, snapped Jordan back to reality, and the pleasure he felt earlier was making it’s way out of the room, to be replaced with panic.

“Martin,” Jordan pulled back with a choppy breath. “What...What were we...”

Jordan looked at Martin with such hope. He’s expecting calming words from the guy accross the bed, so he didn’t feel nasty for the rest of the day. Jordan saw Martin was about to open his mouth, but then the Slovak shut it back before he stood up.

“I’m sorry, Jordan. I’m so sorry,”

And with that, Martin headed to the door and left.  
**


	3. Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm not sorry, Mart," Jordan whispered. His breath felt hot on Martin's neck. "I'm not sorry about the kiss."
> 
> Martin wished he could say something but he was too speechless. He had no idea where this was going.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last installment of this series. I had so much fun working on this. Feel free to e-mail me annetta.darandri@gmail.com for comments and ideas. YNWA, enjoy!
> 
> *Black Cat: Nickname for Sunderland FC, Henderson's former club.

Calling himself with a bunch of dirty names, both in English and Slovak, Martin threw himself to his sack. Now Jordan might never wanted to talk to him again, and Martin wouldn't even blame the English if that happened to be the case. Martin knew that he had just sabotaged himself.

The thought of Jordan might hate him forever from now on pinched his heart. Martin looked towards his door, and thinking about going back to Jordan's room to apologize, again, and tried to explain everything before it's too late.

Determined yet scared, Martin headed to the door but stopped once he opened it.

With one hand halfway up in the air, there stood Jordan, looking just as stunned as Martin.

The awkwardness was unbearable. For a few seconds both of the Liverpool men just starring at each other in silence, until Jordan dropped his eyes and Martin stepped aside to let the English got in.

Jordan walked further to the room and settled by the large window. Martin stared at the English broad back, counting to three before he finally said,

"I'm sorry, Jordan."

After what felt like forever, Jordan finally turned around. A small smile formed in his face.

"Sorry for kissing me?"

"Yeah...I might have freaked you out." Martin rubbed his bald head awkwardly. By the tail of his eyes he could see that Jordan was moving towards him.

This should be the part when Jordan smacked him across the face and maybe said something along the line of "Yes Mart, you have freaked me out and you disgust me."

Jordan reached out, and Martin shuddered as Jordan's palm touched his neck. Thinking Jordan was going to strangle him, Martin tried to get away. But just like the weirdest dream ever, Martin was pulled in and his lips met Jordan's again.

And the kiss felt like a sequel of their previous encounter. A bit nervous, but less awkward. Martin was overwhelmed and confused, but when Jordan tilted his head, giving Martin more space to explore, Martin pushed all questions and concerns aside.

Jordan Henderson was right in his arms, kissing him passionately. It's all that mattered now.

Martin didn't know how he could let go after this. In fact he needed to be closer. His hands wandered down and found Jordan's hips and he pulled them hard to meet his. As their crotches pressed together, Jordan moaned and eventually broke the kiss.

Jordan fell limp. The tension and passion was all too much for him and Martin understood. He hugged Jordan and stroked his back up and down, trying to sooth the overwhelmed English. As much as he loved the previous lustful contact, martin liked this better, just Jordan in his arms. This felt so right, Martin thought as he planted a soft kiss on the top of Jordan's blonde head.

"I'm not sorry, Mart," Jordan finally whispered. His choppy breath felt hot on Martin's neck. "I'm not sorry about the kiss."

Martin wished he could say something but he was too speechless. He had no idea where this was going.

"These past couple of days," Jordan continued, "I noticed that...all these time, you've been treating me differently from the others. And when you came to my room checking on me, and finally kissed me...I realized that..."

Jordan stopped to look up, caressed Martin's cheek and softly said, "maybe I've loved you all along."

Was this all real, Martin asked in his head. He brought his hand up and took Jordan's hand from his cheek. Yes, he was touching Jordan, and yes, even though he couldn't replay it like a record, Martin knew that he was not just dreaming about Jordan saying the L word to him.

"Oh baby," Martin landed small kisses to Jordan's hand. His heart was pounding like crazy in disbelieve. "Oh god, Jordan, you don't understand...I've loved you since you're still a Black Cat*,"

Jordan laughed and this time he's the one pulling Martin to a great, tight hug. They moved to the bed and sat against the comforter, holding each other and just smiled. No words needed.

"Martin...does this make me gay?" Jordan said while he's playing with martin's shirt.

"Maybe. But does this make you my boyfriend?"

Jordan's jaw dropped, and Martin couldn't help but laughed. As Jordan nodded and pulled him into another kiss, Martin swore Jordan never looked that happy before, ever. But of course he was the only one noticing.


End file.
